Salve!  et  Vale! 


RESPONSE 

BY 

JOS  B O TJ  IVl  Jvl  I INI  Q 

TO  THE  TOAST 

"New  Ideas,  New  Departures,  New  Soil" 

AT  THE  74th  ANNUAL  DINNER 

OF  THE 

New  England  Society  of  Charleston,  S.  C., 

December  22d,  1893. 


CHRONICLE  JOB  PRINT,  AUGUSTA.  GA- 


Salve!  et  Vale! 


RESPONSE 


JOS  3E3.  C U M M I N G 


TO  THE  TOAST: 

"flew  Ideas,  New  Departures,  flew  801M” 

AT  THE  74th  ANNUAL  DINNER 

OF  THE 

New  England  Society  of  Charleston,  S.  C., 


December  22d,  1893. 


CHRONICLE  JOB  PRINT.  AUGUSTA.  GA- 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/salveetvalerespoOOcumm 


AIv  hearers  will,  I trust,  indulge  me  in  a few  remarks  at 
the  outset  of  at  least  questionable  taste,  for  they  are  mo.e 
about  myself  than  my  theme.  They  are,  however,  not  so  far 
removed  from  the  sentiment,  which  I am  asked  to  respond  to, 
but  that  that  sentiment  has  itself  suggested  them.  I am  asked  to 
speak  of  new  things— -'Xew  Ideas,  Xew  Departures,  a Xew 
South . " Unfortunately  my  temperament  is  such  that  I am  ever 
less  interested  in  the  new  than  in  the  old.  I have  ever  been 
more  disposed  to  look  back  with  tenderness  than  forward  with 
interest.  My  guest  even  of  happy  hours  has  been  Hope  less 
often  than  Memory.  I have  ever  found  more  to  charm  in  the 
softened  recollections  of  the  past  than  in  high  expectations  of 
the  future.  Were  I a worshipper  of  the  Sun,  mv  sacrifices  would 
be  made  to  the  setting  rather  than  the  rising  orb.  Had  mv  lot 
been  other  than  that  of  a commonplace  worker  in  the  world's 
affairs,  had  my  life  been  one  not  of  action  but  of  contemplation, 
I would  have  been  a fond  dreamer  over  things  departed,  and  not 
the  clear  visioned  prophet  of  things  to  come.  Alv  spirit  turns  un- 
bidden, not  to  our  bustling,  stirring  West,  but  where,  "West  of 
our  West,  sleeps  the  ancient  East.” 

But  after  all,  the  theme,  to  which  you  invite  me,  is  not 
alien  to  this  temperament.  It  calls  for  retrospection  as  well 
as  insight  into  the  present  and  foresight  of  the  future.  For  can 
I speak  of  the  new  without  first  describing  what  is  old?  By 
such  a commonplace  argument  I strive  to  find  a reason  why. 
though  commissioned  apparently  to  speak  onlv  of  new  things,  1 
turn  my  face  fondly  to  that  Old  South,  of  which  I shall  have 
so  much  to  say . 

The  theme  is  a very  comprehensive  one.  Surely  those  who 
proposed  it  intended  to  put  some  limitation  on  its  treatment.  I 
have  found  the  true  limitation,  I believe,  bv  construing,  as  it 
were,  the  several  phrases  of  the  sentiment,  as  lawyers  say, 
i7i pan  niaieria.  So  construing  them,  I conceive  that  the  keynote 


4 


to  the  whole  is  the  word  “ideas.”  It  is  to  the  field  of  ideas  that 
consideration  is  to  be  confined.  The  new  “departures"  are  the 
new  views  of  things,  social  and  political,  whose  fountain  is  the 
changed  ideas  of  the  day.  The  phrase  “New  South  is  not  meant 
to  invite  me  to  a review  of  the  progress  made  by  these  Southern 
States  in  material  pursuits.  But,  rather,  as  1 conceive  it,  the 
"New  South"  of  the  theme  has  nothing  to  do  with  any  purely 
geographical  division  as  such,  but  with  the  people  who  inhabit 
this  Southland  under  conditions  radically  changed  from  those 
which  their  fathers  knew,  and  the  discussion  is  as  to  how  this 
people  is  changed  in  its  ideas,  its  views,  its  manners,  its  senti- 
ments. It  is  a supposed  new  social  and  political  and  sentimental 
South  that  the  theme  makes  mention  of.  It  is  to  be  a study  m 
sociology  rather  than  in  statistics. 

And  here  let  me  pause  to  define — as  is  always  best  to  do 
— one  of  the  principal  terms,  as  I understand  it,  to  be  used  in 
this  discussion— “The  South.”  Of  course,  the  term  is  not 
meant  to  be  expressive  of  any  geographical  relations.  "The 
South,”  of  this  toast,  it  is  conceivable,  might  have  had  its  situs 
in  some  far  northern  region,  or  have  rested  east  or  west.  Ihe 
word  is  used  here  to  express  a civilization,  maintained  by  the 
people  dwelling  south  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line.  No  rela- 
tion to  the  Pole  or  to  the  Equator  is  intended  to  be  indicated 
by  the  word  "South,”  used  in  this  connection,  but  conditions, 
ideas,  manners,  sentiments. 

In  this  comparative  treatment — the  only  form  of  treatment 
I can  conceive  of — in  which  we  measure  the  new  by  considering 
the  old,  unquestionably,  looming  up  as  by  far  the  most  con- 
spicuous feature  in  the  landscape,  is  slavery.  L nquestionably 
that  institution  was  the  most  potent  formative  factor  of  the 
Old  South.  In  a half  flippant  way,  we  speak  of  it  as  "the  peculiar 
institution.”  But  how  few  of  those  who  use  this  phrase  really 
consider  how  unspeakably  peculiar  it  was!  In  thus  characteriz- 
ing it,  I do  not  refer  so  much  to  its  intrinsic  features  as  to  its 
place  in  time  and  as  to  the  people  who  maintained  it . \\  hat  a 

stupendous  anachronism  it  was!  Surviving  far  into  die  Nine- 


teenth  Century — an  age  strongly,  aye  fiercely,  anti-privilege,  a 
leveling  age — an  age  wherein  the  theory  of  the  equality  of  man 
is  entertained  all  through  Christendom,  at  least,  and  the  practice 
of  it  is  at  least  widespread,  there  was  maintained  with  all  the 
force  of  law  and  public  opinion  of  the  South  complete  and 
perfect  slavery  of  millions  of  human  beings.  In  an  age  when 
all  privileged  classes  were  generally  considered  indefensible 
anomalies,  the  white  men  of  the  South  were  absolute  lords  and 
masters  of  millions  of  men.  Most  peculiar  and  wonderful,  then, 
was  this  institution  in  its  relation  to  time. 

Hut  far  more  wonderful  was  it  viewed  in  relation  to  the 
people  who  maintained  it.  Where  would  the  thinker  of  abstract 
thoughts  look  for  a slavery  with  as  few  limitations  as  that  of 
the  South?  Would  he  expect  to  find  it  among  a humane,  a 
refined,  a gentle  and  a generally  pious  people?  And  yet  con- 
spicuously such  were  the  people  of  the  Old  South . Not  only, 
therefore,  was  slavery  a peculiar  institution  in  relation  to  the 
epoch  in  which  it  flourished,  but  also  in  reference  to  the  people 
who  cherished  it.  Its  supporters  would  be  looked  for  by  the 
abstract  thinker  among  a rude,  a harsh,  a pitiless  people.  But  in 
the  ( )ld  South  there  existed  the  most  thoroughly  organized  sys- 
tem of  servitude  that  perhaps  the  world  has  ever  known,  upheld 
by  law,  approved  by  religious  teachers,  and  sustained  and  de- 
fended to  the  last  extremity  by  a noble,  a humane  and  a gentle 
race  of  men . 

It  could  not  be  otherwise  than  that  this  strange  condition 
was  a powerful  factor  in  forming  the  character  and  in  moulding 
the  traits  of  the  people  of  the  South . It  could  not  be  otherwise 
than  that  a people,  living  under  different  conditions  from  all 
other  people,  should  show  the  effect  of  their  unique  environ- 
ment and  be  different  from  other  people.  And  so  they  were. 

I cannot  hope  to  unfold  before  you  the  differences  from  other 
people  which  marked  the  South,  but  that  there  was  a difference, 
whatever  may  have  caused  it,  was  felt  by  friend  and  foe  alike. 
The  term  "South"  meant  a people  apart. 

This  tremendous  force,  slaverv,  was  all  the  more  effec- 


6 


tive,  too,  by  reason  of  the  isolation  it  produced.  For  trulv  the 
South  was  isolated — isolated  in  the  matter  of  things  material, 
and  isolated  in  its  habits  of  thought.  The  stupendous  anachron- 
ism of  slavery,  like  a rock  bound  coast,  beat  back  the  tide  of 
immigration.  On  the  side  of  intellectual  development,  the 
necessity  we  were  under — a necessity  which  grew  apace  as 
time  rolled  on — to  defend  our  peculiar  institution  against  the 
opinion,  the  sentiment  and  the  conscience  of  Christendom,  cut 
us  off  from  the  great  world  of  thought  and  forced  us  into  a 
little  Republic  of  letters  of  our  own — a Republic  full  of  fight, 
aggressive,  even  fierce,  and  in  its  way  strong. 

In  this  great,  aye,  and  solemn  isolation,  there  was  a wonder- 
ful meeting  of  extremes,  such  as  the  world  had  not  known  and 
could  not  know  before.  In  it  there  existed  a slavery  which,  so 
far  as  legal  sanction  was  concerned,  was  as  absolute  as  any 
far  younger  time  and  any  far  different  land  had  ever  known. 
But  it  was  shone  upon  by  the  light  of  this  as  yet  latest  century 
of  time.  Here  was  a dominant  race  absolute  masters  of  another 
race.  But  on  this  dominant  race  were  the  influences  of  the  most 
enlightened  of  the  ages.  Thus  the  extremes  had  met  and  one 
of  the  results  was  that  slavery — that  is  to  say,  the  possession  of 
unrestrained  power  over  one's  fellow-man,  which  among  bar- 
barous people  tends  to  brutality,  there  in  the  Old  South,  shone 
on  by  the  spirit  of  the  age,  furnished  the  rare  garden  in  which 
grew  self-control,  generosity,  genuine  kindness  for  the  weak, 
mercy,  and  manv  other  ennobling  traits.  And  so,  too,  under 
this  remarkable  juxtaposition  of  the  ancient  estate  of  slavery 
and  the  softening  influences  of  the  latest  of  the  centuries,  there 
lived  a ruling  people  whose  characteristics  were  all  its  own ; and 
on  this  Old  South  there  were  lights  and  shadows  which  rested 
on  no  other  land  under  the  vault  of  heaven. 

If  I had  the  ability  and  the  equipment — as  I have  not — 
for  the  historical,  sociological  and  philosophical  studv  of  the 
other  forces,  political,  social,  religious,  racial,  educational,  cli- 
matic, which  made  the  representative  people  of  the  South  what 
they  were,  this  would  not  be  an  occasion  for  the  undertaking. 


Let  us  only  consider — and  that  necessarily  only  very  partially — 
what  thev  were,  what  characteristics  they  presented,  which 
seemed  to  segregate  them  from  other  peoples,  even  those  of 
their  own  land.  As  in  considering  the  forces  which  formed 
them  into  what  they  were,  I have  dealt  only  on  the  greatest, 
slavery,  so  necessarily  only  a few  can  I mention  of  their  traits. 

Perhaps  the  one  word  which  has  been  oftenest  used  to  indi- 
cate that  there  was  something  in  the  representative  Southerner 
— in  his  sentiments,  his  bearing,  his  conduct — characteristic  of 
him,  is  chivalry.  It  was  in  use  by  friend  and  foe  alike.  In  the 
mouth  of  some,  it  might  be  a boast;  on  the  lips  of  many,  it  was 
apt  to  be  a sneer.  An  impartial  critic  ought  to  find  in  it  its  true 
significance.  Doubtless  there  passed  under  this  name  whereof 
to  boast  and  also  under  the  same  name  whereat  to  sneer.  There 
was  the  false  and  there  was  the  true.  There  was  a “chivalry” 
which  manifested  itself  in  bravado  and  turbulence.  A “chivalry” 
which  combined  the  absurd  and  the  tragic,  grotesque  punctilio 
with  the  shedding'  of  blood.  Anything  stamped  with  the  name  of 
“chivalry"  would  receive  the  sneers  of  some,  but  here  was  a 
brand  of  chivalry  worthy  the  execrations  of  all . But  by  the 
side  of  this  noxious  weed  grew  a noble  plant,  a true  flower  of 
chivalry.  If  one  cannot  exactly  describe  it,  one  can  tell  what  it 
was  not.  It  was  not  sordid.  It  was  not  mean.  It  was  not  low. 
It  was  not  commercial.  If  one  cannot  present  a well-defined, 
clean-cut  image  of  it,  one  can  at  least  name  some  of  its  qualities 
and  its  ways.  It  was  high-minded . It  was  generous.  It  scorn- 
ed unfairness.  Like  King  Arthur  and  his  greatest  knight,  it 
“forebore  its  own  advantage.”  To  it  there  was  “no  heaven  so 
high  as  faith.”  It  lived  in  an  atmosphere  other  than  that  of  the 
mart.  It  esteemed  many  things  better  than  wealth.  To  it 
stainless  honor  was  a priceless  jewel.  True  deference  to  woman 
was  its  sacred  duty  and  its  graceful  ornament . Such  as  it 
was,  it  was  not  a mere  profession,  but  it  was  a genuine  senti- 
ment, a rule  of  conduct  and  a living  force.  Let  those  of  us 
who  cherish  the  memory  of  the  South  not  permit  ourselves  to 
be  laughed  out  of  the  use  of  this  goodly  word,  when  we  wish  to 


speak  tenderlv  but  truthfully  of  the  vanished  past,  for  it  ex- 
pressed a living  reality,  belated  perhaps  in  a prosaic  age,  but 
worthy  of  all  honor. 

Another  feature  in  this  mental  and  moral  landscape  we  look 
back  upon  was  something",  which  on  another  occasion  I have 
spoken  of  as  “that  spirit,  that  morality,  that  habit  of  thought  and 
of  feeling,  whatever  it  ma>  be  called,  which  will  not  make  mer- 
chandise of  principles;  which  will  not  worship  success  for  its 
own  sake;  which  raises  love,  friendship,  honor,  faith  to  the  realm 
of  sacred  things — in  a word,  which  finds  its  Rome,  its  city  of  the 
soul,  in  the  world  of  sentiment  rather  than  in  the  world  of  ma- 
terialism . ” 

I cannot  undertake  to  dwell  on  other  features  of  this  land 
resting  in  the  shadow.  I can  only  touch  lightly  here  and  there. 
1 can  speak  only  a passing  word  as  to  how  the  rural  life  of  its 
representative  people  fostered  reflection,  contemplation,  revery. 
How  it  was  the  land  of  independent  thinkers  and  romantic 
dreamers — thinkers  and  dreamers  alike  without  ambition,  and 
clothing  their  reflections  and  their  dreams  in  no  literature.  How 
the  voice  of  nature  was  stronger  and  the  rule  of  conventionalities 
weaker  than  with  us.  How  fashion  was  neither  enshrined  nor 
enthroned.  How  within  the  limits  of  essential  principles  there 
was  variety  of  conduct.  How  the  world  was  not  in  a whirl. 
How  there  was  not  the  rush  and  feverishness  of  competition  in 
all  things.  How  it  was  the  home  of  peace  and  repose,  and 
romance’s  own  native  land. 

Alas!  alas!  vain  is  my  effort  to  unroll  before  you  a chart 
of  that  perished  time,  of  that  vanished  realm.  My  effort  is  to 
point  out  the  differences  between  the  South  and  other  people . I 
feel  them,  1 know  them,  I confidently  proclaim  their  reality.  But 
how  difficult  they  are  to  seize;  how  ghostlike  they  elude  our 
grasp  and  gdide  into  the  shadow!  They  live  not  so  much  in  sub- 
stance as  in  spirit . They  are  not  so  much  revealed  to  the 
senses  and  capable  of  description  in  language  as  they  are  dis- 
cerned by  the  spirit . 

1 imagine  to  mvself  some  visible  spirit  of  the  air  commis- 


9 


sioned  by  the  Great  Ruler  to  direct  his  flight  over  all  lands  and 
inspect  them  from  his  aerial  path,  as  he  wings  his  way  over  that 
Old  South.  His  master  has  not  sent  forth  this  minister  unfitted 
for  his  great  and  solemn  mission.  Wherefore  this  trusted  ser- 
vant of  his  experiences  not  the  limitations,  which  time  and  dis- 
tance impose  on  our  clogged  human  senses;  and  so  the  little 
cities,  scattered  here  and  there,  lie  before  him,  and  sequestered 
homes  all  over  the  land  emerge  into  his  view.  Sound,  too,  comes 
to  him,  unimpaired  by  space  or  obstacle.  It  brings  to  his  per- 
ceptions no  hum  of  the  market  place,  no  noise  of  fierce  com- 
petitions, no  clatter  of  the  mad  race  after  riches.  This  minister, 
too,  to  do  his  heaven-appointed  task,  is  endowed  with  such  sus- 
ceptibility and  receptivity,  that  he  not  only  embraces  all  sub- 
jects of  sight  and  hearing,  but  the  thoughts  and  feelings,  the 
sentiments  and  aspirations — the  soul  and  spirit  life  of  peoples — 
qualify  for  him  the  air  which  uplifts  his  mighty  pinions  and 
affect  his  spirit  nature,  as  the  mingled  fagrance  of  many  flowers 
floats  on  the  breath  of  the  summer  night  to  our  own  delighted 
senses.  And  so  the  strong  wings  seem  to  become  more  buoyant 
in  his  flight  over  this  Old  South,  into  whose  atmosphere  have 
floated  the  emanations  of  soul  and  spirit  of  a goodly  people.  1. 
seem  to  see  this  wonderful  inspector  of  realms  at  the  moment  he 
enters  the  air  piled  above  that  old  land,  and  to  note  his  mani- 
festations of  solemn  surprise.  1 seem  to  hear  him  say:  This 
land  that  lies  down  there  is  not  like  any  other  beheld  in  all  my 
course.  When  I return  to  those  high  courts  that  sent  me 
forth,  I must  report  that  a strange  shadow  overspreads  it;  that  a 
wondrous  light  mingles  with  the  shadow . The  shadow  itself 
seems  very  dark,  but  there  is  some  marvelous  quality  in  the 
light,  so  that  the  mingling  is  unlike  anything  else  beheld  in  all 
my  flight  over  land  and  sea.  It  is  not  blackness,  neither  is  it 
the  light  of  perfect  day.  It  is  not  gloom,  neither  is  it 

ti  e brightness  of  joy.  A sort  of  twilight  rests  upon  the  land. 
The  overhanging  air,  too,  has  qualities  all  its  own — and  the 
boundaries  of  this  land  stand  out  bold  and  stern,  marking  it 
off  from  all  else  of  earth.  And  this  my  report  will  be  the  latest 


IO 


on  this  sequestered  land;  for  my  successor  in  this  high  office  at 
his  coming,  though  it  be  delayed  but  a little  while,  will  find  this 
land  not  here — but  vanished. 

Thus  in  many  ways,  even  to  the  calling  to  my  assistance 
the  spirits  of  the  air,  I try  to  body  forth  some  image  of  the  Old 
South.  1 fear  I have  succeeded  in  nothing  except  in  showing 
that  I cherish  its  memory  blindly  as  well  as  fondly.  But  i am 
not  blind . I have  spoken  of  it  as  a land  under  a great  shadow . 

I know  it  held  its  sordid,  its  vicious,  its  ignorant,  its  brutal.  I 
know  that  to  the  vicious  and  the  brutal  slavery  gave  opportuni- 
ties for  hideous  deeds,  which  elsewhere  could  not  have  happened. 
And  yet  1 have  treated  this  Old  South  only  in  reference  to  such 
noble  characteristics  as  true  honor,  true  chivalry,  and  elevated 
traits  of  character.  And  so  1 think  it  ought  to  be  regarded  in 
any  general  treatment  of  the  subject.  To  treat  the  Old  South 
in  detail  is  out  of  the  question  on  an  occasion  like  this;  and  to 
treat  of  any  subject  in  a general  way,  one  must  present  its  most 
salient  characteristics.  I believe  I have  presented  the  Old  South, 
so  far  as  I have  presented  it  at  all,  as  it  stands  in  the  memory 
of  its  living  assessors,  and  as  it  should  live  in  song  and  story. 

But  it  is  gone!  The  Island  of  Atlantis  has  not  more  effec- 
tually disappeared  beneath  the  billows  of  the  Atlantic . 1 he 

physical  forces  which  held  that  mythical  island  above  the  waves 
were  withdrawn  and  it  sank.  1 he  political  and  social  forces, 
which  created  the  Old  South,  are  spent,  and  it  has  disappeared. 
The  whole  landscape  has  changed.  The  forces  and  the  resultants 
are  gone  forever. 

But  why,  it  may  well  be  asked,  do  I linger  so  long  speaking 
of  old  ideas  and  the  Old  South,  when  my  theme  is  the  New  .' 
I can  fancy  the  dismay  of  my  hearers  at  the  apprehension  that 
these  remarks  may  run  on  indefinitely,  if  all  this  talk  about  the 
Old  is  only  introductory  of  my  real  theme,  the  New.  I hasten  to 
allay  all  anxiety  on  this  point.  The  subject  assigned  me  is  in 
effect,  the  “New  South. ” I can  only  treat  that  subject  as  it 
presents  itself  to  mv  mind.  I could  not  deal  with  the  subject 
by  telling  you  what  the  New  South  is;  for  to  my  vision  no  New 
South  is  revealed. 


II 


The  toast  must  needs  address  itself  to  my  mind  as  if  this 
hospitable  society  had  said  to  me:  Tell  us  whether  you  think 

there  is  a New  South,  and  if  there  is,  give  us  your  views  about 
it.  To  tins  my  thought  and  my  convictions  answer:  There  is 

no  New  South.  But  I could  not  content  myself  or  maintain  an 
attitude  of  deference  to  you  by  a mere  curt  and  bald  statement 
to  that  effect.  I must  justify  it,  if  I can,  by  some  reason.  1 
have  tried  to  do  so  by  showing  what  the  “Old  South"  was.  If 
I have  half  succeeded  in  this,  I have,  in  the  doing  it,  demon- 
strated that  there  is  not,  and  there  cannot  be,  a “New  South." 
For  “South"  in  this  connnection  indicated  a peculiar  civilization, 
a condition.  In  that  sense,  there  could  not  be  any  South  but 
that  Old  South.  It  was  the  resultant  of  certain  forces.  It  could 
not  exist  after  those  forces  ceased  any  more  than  the  bark  will 
sail  on  when  the  wind  subsides.  The  firmly  rooted  land,  it  is 
true,  bears  the  same  relation  as  of  yore  to  the  points  of  the 
compass,  but  it  is  no  longer  the  “South."  There  are  “new 
ideas"  in  this  land  thus  situated,  but  they  are  not  ideas  of  a 
“South;"  they  are  simply  the  ideas  of  a universal  and  uniform 
civilization.  There  are  "new  departures,”  but  they  indicate 
nothing  except  that  we  have  taken  our  place  in  the  uniformed 
ranks  of  the  world  generally. 

As  expressive  of  anything  existing  today  the  word  “South" 
is  meaningless,  except  in  its  primary  signification  of  certain  rela- 
tions to  the  pole  and  the  equator.  Our  “new  ideas”  are  the 
assimilation  of  our  ideas  to  those  of  the  civilized  world  gener- 
ally. Our  “new  departures"  consist  only  in  our  doing  like  the 
rest  of  the  world.  It  all  means  no  more  than  this:  We  have 
“joined  the  procession.”  As  it  marches  by  there  is  nothing  to 
distinguish  us  from  the  ranks  generallv.  We  are  no  more 
‘South  in  the  sense  of  that  word,  used  to  describe  a civiliza- 
tion, than  we  are  North.  We  are  following  the  fashion  as  far  as 
we  can,  whatever  it  may  be.  We  are  striving  to  be  as  much 
like  other  people  as  we  possibly  can,  and  the  farther  we  fall 
short  in  that  endeavor  the  more  awkward  we  feel . We  have  lost 
all  thought  of  being  different  from  other  peoples. 


12 


Our  newness  of  ideas  and  of  departures  consists  wholly  in 
conforming  to  the  ideas  of  the  rest  of  the  world  and  doing  just 
as  they  do,  and  to  speak  of  our  new  ideas  and  new  departures 
would  be  to  take  this  uniform  world  as  a theme.  And  so.  from 
my  standpoint,  unless  one  is  going  to  enter  upon  the  discussion 
of  the  world's  progress  generally  in  ideas  and  achievements,  he 
can  say  nothing  on  the  toast,  “New  Ideas"  and  "New  De- 
partures" in  the  South,  except  that  we  are  like  the  rest  of  the 
world.  The  "South"  has  not  wholly  ceased  to  exist.  There  arc 
some  fragments  of  it  vet.  But  when  you  find  them  they  are 
old — the  Old  South . Whatever  there  is  of  new  is  not  the 
“South."  but  the  world.  What  there  is  of  "South  is  fast  dis- 
appearing as  time  rolls  on,  just  as  the  geographical  South  is  left 
behind  one  who  turns  his  back  upon  the  North  Pole  and 
marches  steadily  to  the  equator. 

There  may  seem  to  be  a tone  of  regret  running  through 
what  I say.  If  there  is,  it  is  the  regret  that  one  feels  when  the 
idle  flow  of  the  river  is  set  to  work  to  turn  the  wheels  of  a factory, 
or  when  the  stately  monarch s of  the  forest  must  be  laid  low 
that  some  railway  may  have  its  right-of-way. 

So,  all  hail  the  New!  It  is  colorless,  but  strong.  It  is  uni- 
form, but  it  is  not  out  of  place  in  the  ages.  It  is  hard,  but  it  is 
practical.  Whatever  it  is.  of  good  or  of  evil,  it  is  not  "South. 

And  farewell  the  Old!  the  land  where  the  ancient  shadow 
and  the  new  light  commingled,  making  a twilight  land;  the  land 
with  an  atmosphere  all  its  own : the  land  with  the  rock-bound 
coast;  the  land  of  impassable  frontiers — the  isolated,  the  lonely 
and  the  friendless! 

All  hail!  thou  new!  We  receive  thee  as  our  fate  and 
fortune . 

Farewell  tliou  old!  Thee,  thee  we  cherish  in  pathetic 
memory'’ . 

Hail  and  farewell.  Salve  et  vale  ! 


